


The Fool's Journey: A Star Wars Story (Episode Three)

by scarjarbinks



Series: The Fool's Journey [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Resistance (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarjarbinks/pseuds/scarjarbinks
Summary: Set in 51ABY, Vrina Hon, a Force-sensitive stand-up comedian, finds himself entangled with a galactic-wide plot to reset balance in the New Republic.Being thrusted between two rivaling governances and having the weight of bureaucratic tension crown him was never the intention of the young Mikkian when fled from Coruscant...
Series: The Fool's Journey [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158005





	The Fool's Journey: A Star Wars Story (Episode Three)

# Episode Three

## Heaven of Alloy

Their small craft was welcomed by a crew of red, skeletal droids with a single lens of an eye. One such entity, slightly larger than the others, beckoned the shuttle with two illuminated batons; its spindly limbs and graceless movements set itself apart from its kin. Tam remarked how she did not need anyone to tell her how to land her ship and her Astromech whirred with passivity.

Kaz was first to exit through the cargo bay. He had only been on TIL-03 once before, and, though his experience was brief, it was markedly unpleasant. Wegil was the closest to follow him as he claimed to have found himself waylaid on the moon several times before. The remaining two disembarked soon after while the R9 unit remained inside as interim guardianship.

The four inspected the dimly lit station with scowls upon their faces: scant buildings, mostly strips of identical motels and one large dome that Kaz had claimed was a sorry excuse for a gambling hall. Near the landing bay, an administrative office was tucked aside and almost blended into the ubiquitous grey landscape.

Wegil scratched his left cheek with a long and uneven pinky nail. “I could think of three other waystations that would be more comfortable than this one, and one is Hutt controlled.”

The door to the administrative building unsealed with a hiss and revealed from within a droid of overtly feminine build. A large, rounded bust, and a triangular face with vaguely Humanoid features adorned the mechanical entity as if she were a chimera constructed of spare parts from a corpse. Tam tucked her brow, her mouth gaping. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

A short walk was necessary before the strange specimen could be within range to speak to the group. Unease filled Vrina as he made out a Humanoid face with a half-rusted body. Her joints creaked with each step, though artificial confidence practically exhumed from the droid. Her hips swung with every gait and she held a similarly coquettish posture as she stopped to greet them.

“Welcome to Tillo-Three, where all of your ship and crew’s needs can be met with a smile. I am Operator em-ee-nine-five.” The voice that rattled from her seemingly punctured speech modulator unnerved each of them. “Of which services do you request?”

Tam was the only one who could muster the strength to speak. “Emmy, was it? Uh, well, our ship is damaged. Specifically—”

“Scan complete. All major systems of your ship are functioning at near capacity. All damage is at surface-level and can be mended within a half-rotation. Would you like to use this time to take advantage of our luxury suites and top-of-the-line game hall?”

The pilot exchanged a quick shrug with her captain. Kaz said, “Sure. Are there enough rooms for each of us?”

“Yes, and at a cutthroat rate of one-hundred-and-fifty credits per night.”

The Zabrak cackled while the two Humans stressed. “I’ve got this. Consider it a gift.” He stepped forward and drew a highly modern account card from a pouch on his belt. The droid stared at the near-transparent object and chirped as if thinking.

“I am unable to process this card. Credits are preferred.”

Kaz’s face flushed crimson. He blinked and tried his best to avoid turning to Tam, whose hip was cocked and arms were crossed. “I told you we could've used those credits,” she hissed.

“I know,” he said. After a shallow exhale, he stepped forward and dismissed Wegil with a tap on the shoulder. “You wouldn’t happen to have something that’s, erm, not so luxurious?”

The femme droid clicked twice before responding. “Absolutely. Allow me to guide you to what we refer to as our ‘basic accommodations’.”

Wegil bumped Vrina with his elbow and whispered, “Why do I have a feeling this is going to be significantly less than basic?”

Caught off-guard by the friendly gesture, it took a moment for the Mikkian to respond. After drinking in the ambiance of the moon, he said, “I have a feeling you’re going to be right.”

~*~

A navy-blue custodian droid marched in front of a row of stout cylinders, each large enough to potentially house all four of the guests. The rattling Emmy slowed to a stop to present a heavy iron door. “Your access code is zero-three-six-nine. Please register this to your memory as I am not authorized to repeat sensitive information.”

Vrina cracked a smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, um, I’m so sorry, but what was that code again?” The droid crooked her neck to stare at the Mikkian. A loud, repetitive clicking accompanied her completely still body. This chaotic performance pleased the Zabrak who approached the droid with curiosity painting his face.

“Seems you broke her, clown.”

The comedian pulled back his head wrap to scratch just under where it rested on his crown. Kaz stepped past Wegil and prodded the access pad, but each button was stiff and unresponsive. An obnoxious honk resounded from a surprisingly tiny speaker.

“Are you putting in the right code?” The shuttle’s pilot leaned in to inspect the pad. She shook her head, "This is a mess."

“Yes, Tam. Let me just... Try again...” After another round of struggling, the same alarm blared once more and he reactively punched the tiny console. Emmy broke from her glitched state to turn to the bearded man, subsequently startling the Zabrak who was hovering inches from her face.

Her voice strained from the modulator and progressively lost volume as she spoke: “If you have issues entering your room, you can make your way to the main administration…”

Tam pressed the palm of her hand into her forehead. “This is among the top five worst experiences I’ve ever had. I’d rather be target practice for pirates.”

Shaking his head, the smile that settled on Kaz’s face gradually dissipated as he looked past the three and back to the landing pads. “That’s… Eerie. Tam.” He pointed his finger to two identical ships that lowered on either side of their shuttle.

She fumbled with her comlink. “Are-Nine?” It responded gleefully. “Can you scan those incoming ships? What do you mean there’s nothing to scan?”

Kaz spoke into his device as well. “Do you mean that comms are jammed?” The droid whistled back, its tone irritated. “They must have a way to scramble their signal, too. But theirs…”

“It won’t settle on another signature. It’s complete nonsense.”

Wegil thumbed his nose. “Hate to interject, but you're about to have your first taste of the Federation. Just one blaster between the lot of you?” He scratched his chest and tilted his head. The pilot clenched her fists.

“Thought you said they're not interested in violence. So, this could be good for us,” she admitted through her teeth. “After all, they have no idea who we are. They could see our ship and think it’s genuinely here for repairs.”

Vrina’s dry mouth parted as another strange headache seeped into his skull. He listened to the others banter for a moment before turning to the Zabrak, who bounced an expression of equal discomfort. “Wegil, did you—did you contact anyone to tell them where you are?”

Both Humans spun to face the horned man. Tam drew her blaster, a sleek but humble DL-18. Its narrow barrel found itself locked onto the tense Zabrak for the second time. She asked, “That seems likely. You sure seem to be close to them."

Kaz redirected himself to the ships yet spoke to the group in a stale tone. “That makes sense. You became conscious at a pretty convenient time. You could have transmitted our hyperdrive coordinates and we never would've known. I mean, we used your body to launch a crate—there’s no way you were still asleep after that.”

“Wait, you did _what_?” Tam blinked and turned to acknowledge her captain. In that instant, Wegil lunged forward and struck the woman’s wrist with pointed knuckles and followed up with a hard push. Kaz growled and hopped forward to interject the attack but his punch was deflected with a flexed bicep.

The pilot reconstituted herself, crouched, and took aim. The Zabrak twisted his body to extend a leg with as much force as he could muster. His heel collided with the woman’s forehead and she yelped while crumbling backwards. Kaz shouted her name and brought up either wrist to shield himself from a series of quick attacks. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Vrina sprint to the pilot’s inadvertently tossed weapon.

Kaz’s knee rose into Wegil’s gut and did not hesitate to detach himself to drop a heavy kick into Wegil's right ankle. After dropping a knee to the hard ground, a circular blue beam struck the Zabrak in the small of his back. The man thanked Vrina under his breath and rushed to his companion’s side. “Tamara, are you okay?”

She opened up one eye, and then the other. Her captain helped her to her feet. Tam grimaced and felt the sore spot on her forehead with two fingers. Wegil's attack had managed to break skin. “He was… More of a threat than I thought. Where’s—”

The bearded Human beckoned Vrina over and he obeyed after a moment of hesitation. She outstretched her hand and requested her weapon’s return without as much as a note of gratitude. “Oh, yeah. Sure.” He turned over the blaster by its hilt and she immediately slipped it back into her holster.

Tam frowned and broke from Kaz’s brace. Dusting herself off, she asked, “What do we do with him?” The placid, stunned body of the tan Zabrak had fallen into an uncomfortably contorted position.

After a moment of deliberation, the Mikkian spoke up. “If he’s in with the Federation, we could maybe use him as a bargaining chip?”

“We?”

He raised either hand and backed up, apologetic for inserting himself into their plans. “I mean—you. You two can do that.”

Kaz hummed. “Vrina Hon, are you willing to work with us for the remainder of this mission?” He received a nasty glance from Tam, but he chose to ignore her. “Know that your tooka may have to go a few more hours without eating.”

He scratched the back of his neck and pouted. “She is getting kind of chunky…” Vrina sighed and looked up to face both of them. “Okay. Sure. Just tell me what to do. I don't want to get in the way.”

The pilot had been crouched next to the idle body of Wegil while the comedian and her companion spoke. She pulled a small device from his waistband. “This must be what he used to contact the Federation.” Tam rotated the conical object in her hand and the two inspected it with blank stares. “Oh well.” In the next instant, her fist tightly enclosed to crush it.

Upon opening her hand, several pieces of metal fell from her palm and littered the ground next to the Zabrak’s unconscious body. Vrina asked, “Do we try to sneak our way back to the ship?”

“I’d say we just toss him off a platform and get it over with.” She grazed her forefingers over the still-bleeding scar just above her eyebrows and seethed.

Kaz stroked his chin before speaking into the comlink. “Are-Nine, are we fit to get out of here?” It chirped back with a positive affectation. “Well, can you tell them to leave?” He turned to Vrina and filled him in: several maintenance droids were still on-board. The Mikkian could not prevent himself from grinning. “What’s so funny?”

He shook his head to dismiss the question and Tam pat her hands clean. She examined the somewhat distant landing bay with a careful eye. “I can spot a handful of figures from here. Whether or not they’re armed… In any case, we’re outnumbered.” Then, to Kaz: “We’re completely banking on the fact that they don’t know who we are, what we look like, and what our business is. If Are-Nine did his job, we should look innocent enough to slip away unnoticed.”

Vrina cut the captain off just as he began speaking. He apologized and the man allowed him to precede him. “Wouldn't they notice the carbon scoring before anything else? Not like a ton of cargo ships get into casual laser fights.”

“That’s what I was going to say,” Kaz nodded to the Mikkian, his tone positive. “Plus, there’s only one ship here. If these people truly are attempting to establish a government from the shadows, they’re not dumb. We have to be prepared to run or fight.”

“With one blaster?” He shook his head.

Tam raised the DL-18 and raised her eyebrows. “I’m a damn good shot, Vrina Hon.”

The lethargic, gravelly voice of Wegil knocked each of them off-kilter. “So are they.” He kept his face pressed against the cold cement even as Tam pointed the weapon to him.

She growled, “I’m taking this thing off of stun.”

“Now, wait a moment,” Wegil insisted with a pained yet clever smirk. “They know me. The way I see it, you have two potential routes and one almost certainly results in your death.” His limbs shuddered in an attempt to sit up.

Kaz shook his head when Tam stepped forward with a ploy to execute the vigilante club owner. She felt the hot gaze of all three men on her and forced herself to relax. “Fine. What do you have in mind? No, stay on the ground.””

The Zabrak became still after he pushed himself from the ground and settled in a weak, cross-legged sit. “As you wish. I’ll skip the fluff: if you three meet with the officers and introduce yourself as an interested party, then we will assuredly exit this blasted moon without any issues. Since you’ve already scrambled your shuttle’s signature, they won’t have a way to trace any previous routes, so...”

A heaviness settled onto the group as each of them considered this. Vrina reminded the pilot that she had very little time to decide and it was probably best for her to holster her weapon. “If these guys see you pointing a blaster at their contact—”

She cursed under her breath and agreed with a hasty unequip. Kaz followed through by reluctantly helping Wegil to his feet; each muscle tensed in preparation to retaliate against another unexpected assault. The Zabrak straightened the fabric of his slacks and slowly walked off in the direction of the landing bay, hiding a limp as he did so. The droid, Emmy, trailed behind them.

With a shudder and arms littered with goosebumps, the Mikkian asked, “What is this thing doing?”

Wegil looked back and observed the clumsy, rusted droid. “She's no bother. Doesn't look like she can speak, anyway. I’d wager to say it makes our plan look that much more legitimate. Come now, and, trust me when I say that you should at least pretend to be interested in what they have to say.”

The pilot asked through her teeth, “How are you even standing right now?” A breathy laugh expressed through the horned man’s nostrils. She rolled her eyes.

A short expanse of stairs connected to a wide platform housing their shuttle and two larger, much more expensive ships. Tam caught herself admiring the weaponry and cleared her throat to refocus. After a brief wave to the cleanly dressed Federation officers, both parties met up.

Six were present with ostensibly more still hidden in their ships. They wore similar outfits, off-white tunics and matching slacks—all of which were form fitting and sleek. Four of the representatives were women. Their hair was mowed into a buzzcut, exaggerating their otherwise gentle features that appeared marred by a certain experience none of them shared.

“Commander Isten,” Wegil greeted the shortest woman. He tried his best to relax his aching body; each step of his right foot sent a sharp, electric shock up his body. The Human's counter may have fractured, or even worse, broke his ankle. “I never thought I’d see you out of your office. Fresh air calling to you?”

“It is quite nice to stretch my legs sometimes, though, of all places...” Her tone was deadpan, unmalleable even as she spoke to those behind him. “This is quite a haul. Whatever you’re doing to convince people of our cause, never stop. The droid, too?”

Each turned to face the stiff and antiquated Emmy. The Zabrak returned Isten and shook his head, a calm smile planted on his face. “The droid works here. As much as I believe I’ve done an excellent job explaining what it is you do, it may be beneficial for them to hear the Federation’s mission statement from its source. Care to take it away, Commander?”

She nodded once and fell into a robotic drivel. “Our goal is to have a universal presence among each civilized planet, to establish a perfect and functional trade network without the cumbersome element of excess taxation. Each planet will know what the other has and will order accordingly. There will be no more unnecessary bureaucracy. There will only be abundance.”

Though Kaz’s throat was tight, he managed to squeeze out a question. “So, what's the difference between the Republic and the—”

“Transparency. Locals will not be freely permitted to join the Federation, though a strict application process has already proven effective. This ensures that outside ideals will not pollute the already efficient think tank we have spent decades constructing.”

“I see. What will be the role of, say, Jedi?”

Isten’s posture did not change, but Vrina felt a spike of irritation when she raised her chin. “That’s a curious question. Since we’re exchanging curiosities, may I enquire about the damage your shuttle has taken? Small arm scoring and quite a considerable amount of it. I wasn’t aware one could make so much trouble coming from—where was it that our sensors picked up? Dantooine?”

The commander waited for the group to process her question, but Wegil was quick to respond with enough confidence to at least steady his companion’s nerves. “There has been an increased presence of pirates since—”

Once again, the woman jumped to cut their speech short. “Since Exegol and the rumored revival of the Jedi. I know there is a temple on Dantooine. You,” she nodded to Kaz who felt his body freeze. “What is your name and occupation?”

He attempted to remember the disguise he chose for this mission: simple black garments that did not match, a tight and aged belt, newer boots without much scuffing. “Kazuda Krishan,” he lied. Wegil noted how he chose to stick with his first name and hoped that the other two were just as wise. “Senior mechanic from Dantoo Town.”

Behind Isten, a thin man with a yellow ribbon tightly wound around his neck unveiled a palm-sized tablet from the pocket of his coat. She kept quiet while the man hurriedly tapped the screen. Wegil mentally weighed his options and attempted to adjust his demeanor when he felt the woman’s gaze envelope him.

The man spoke up: “No records for Kazuda Krishan. Three-hundred-seventy-four recorded entities with the surname Krishan, four-hundred-one recorded entities with the first name Kazuda.” He paused, seemingly for effect. “Zero of which resides on the planet Dantooine.”

Isten raised her eyebrows and referenced the Zabrak as she spoke. “There appears to be some discrepancies, Mister Geun. The Federation of All Systems wish only to be involved with those who prize transparency and honesty. One down, two to go. You.” Each nerve in Vrina’s body became lit as she felt her cold glare fall onto him. “What is your full name and occupation?”

“Um,” he looked to Wegil, then the beet-red Kaz who appeared to be mentally constructing a plan of some sort. Racing eyes, flushed cheeks. “My name is Vrina Hon, with an ‘o’, and I’m a stand-up comedian from Coruscant.”

“Where in Coruscant?”

He blinked once. “Galactic City. No need for comedians in The Works.” The group watched the woman break a smirk. Once again, the man behind her began to run calculations on his tablet. This time, the search was considerably quicker.

“This identity checks out, ma’am,” he nodded. “Photo and all.”

She hummed, pleased. “Well, then. We have one who is willing to tell the truth. Now, there are a myriad of possibilities running through my mind at the moment. You might be the ringleader of this group,” Isten paused to assess them as a whole. Tam’s nostrils flared. “Or she may be. Name and occupation?”

The pilot rendered her teeth as an impenetrable gate. Her eyes were hard as they fought against the prodding examination of the Federation commander. After a few tense moments, Isten shrugged her right shoulder. “No matter. I have no power over any of you, so if you do not feel compelled to give us information, so be it. Wegil, I am afraid a majority of your haul will not be useful to our cause. You see,” she took in a deep breath and addressed each member one-by-one. “The Federation of All Systems is in an exciting phase where we are looking to fill many slots in our communications and engineering department.”

Tam exhaled a short, harsh breath. “This was an interview? We’re not interested.”

“None of you? Not even you, Vrina Hon-with-an-‘o’?” The slender and pale Commander Isten crossed her twig-like arms. He felt a subtle ache flit about his skull. “Where do your skills lie other than telling jokes? I can see that you are honest and full of integrity. Can you fly?”

“N-no. Pretty useless on that front. Typically, I just walk everywhere.”

Wegil stepped into the conversation with a slow swipe of the hand. “At least the news can spread organically this way. Three will tell three and they will become six, and they will become twelve. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with us.”

Isten looked past the horned man and to the Mikkian. “I was not finished. Since you are an honest individual, let me try to clear up something that’s been weighing on me: what exactly happened at our friend Wegil's lounge?” The Zabrak choked on a hard swallow and visibly tensed. 

“Ma'am," he lowered his head, smirked and stepped forward. Temporarily forgetting about his injury, tears lined his eyes as he spoke. "Th-there’s no need to ask anybody but me about what happened.”

She agreed with a nod. “Go on, then. Explain to me why two of my captains were in your club when it was attacked by a rogue company of terrorists? Explain to me why you are with them now, still?”

Each of the five officers behind her drew their weapons: compact blaster rifles of a model nobody in the group could identify. Tam felt the impulse to reach for her blaster, but Kaz had already reached out to touch her arm. She understood that this would be the move that ended her life. With unshakeable confidence, he said, “My name is Kazuda Xiono, son of Senator Hamato Xiono.”

Isten smiled. “I've ascertained that. Keep going.”

He creased his brow and hesitated to continue. The officers’ weapons did not waver, each of them dedicated to one member of the group—including the confused and silent Emmy.


End file.
